


underneath the christmas lights

by wandasmaximoffs



Series: 12 days of exr 2017 [2]
Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: 12 days of exr, Alternate Universe - Mob, Fluff, M/M, day two: decorating, mob boss enjolras, wow....another non angsty fic.....incredible
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-04
Updated: 2017-12-04
Packaged: 2019-02-10 14:52:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 882
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12914211
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wandasmaximoffs/pseuds/wandasmaximoffs
Summary: It’s been a hell of a year, and for the first time since he was a child, Enjolraswantsto celebrate the holidays, instead of just working through them and grimacing in annoyance at every well-wish of the season.





	underneath the christmas lights

It’s snowing in Paris-- not that Enjolras has noticed. He’s sitting on the couch, legs tucked beneath him as he evaluates a tablet, trying to get at least a  _ little  _ work done. It’s a position he’s most  _ definitely  _ going to regret within the next half hour; his knees are already starting to protest. It’s okay, he thinks to himself; he’ll take a break in twenty minutes. 

He’s still sitting like that, two hours later, when Grantaire bustles through the front door, arms full of almost-overflowing bags and green eyes bright. His black curls are spotted with rapidly-melting snow, and his nose is still red from the cold; the sight alone is enough to make Enjolras smile, and make his heart rate rise.  
  


“I’m home!” He announces, grinning widely at Enjolras as the dog starts to paw at him excitedly. “Yeah, buddy, I’m home! Hi!”  
  
  
“Egg, c’mere,” Calls Enjolras, patting the space beside him on the couch. There’s no doubt that Grantaire is just as thrilled to see the pup as he is to see him, but the bags he’s being prevented from dropping look awfully heavily. Enjolras wonders, absently, what’s in them-- They’re not due for a grocery shop for a few days, and even then they usually go together in order to regulate the contents of their cupboards. (Their kitchen is, after all, a democracy.)

Egg yelps happily and launches himself onto the couch, knocking the tablet off of Enjolras’ lap, and Enjolras winces as it reminds him of his painfully awkward position.  
  


“Busted,” Says Grantaire, still grinning, though there’s something softer in his eyes, now. The bags have been placed gently at his feet, and he’s unbuttoning his green coat with nimble fingers. “I thought you weren’t gonna work today, huh?”

“You can’t prove anything.” Enjolras grins, stretching his legs out. “But, I promise, I’m done for the day. Did you go shopping?”

He knows it’s a fairly obvious question, answered by the bags full of  _ something  _ now being scooped up by Grantaire and placed on the coffee table, but he’s not going to ask outright what’s in them; Grantaire has the right to his his own privacy, after all.

“I did go shopping,” Says Grantaire, though his grin has turned into something a little more sly, “For something we sorely need.”  
  


The curiosity is overwhelming, but before Enjolras can give in and ask for an elaboration, Grantaire pulls out three hideously coloured tinsel garlands.

“Decorations!” He announces, continuing to pull various trinkets and strings of lights out of the bags, “It’s time to get  _ festive.  _ I assumed you wouldn’t have any, so I picked some up on the way back from the studio. _ ” _

He’s not wrong in his assumption; Enjolras can’t remember decorating for Christmas since he was a child. He can’t actually remember decorating for  _ anything,  _ save for Grantaire’s birthday this year, for which he had balloons and flower delivered to decorate the bedroom.

Their apartment is a fairly large and modern, open-plan space, and the design is impeccable, if a little minimalistic and completely impersonal; when Grantaire had moved in, he’d noted that it looked like a show apartment, and he wasn’t wrong then, either. Over the time they’ve lived together, though, Grantaire had started making small changes; some throw pillows here, a plush green comforter there; some framed pictures dotted around the walls and on the white marble counter-tops.

Before Enjolras could even notice it had happened, the place looked more like a home than it ever had-- Just  _ thinking _ about it makes him smile like a lovesick fool.  


Decorating for Christmas had never appealed to him before -- there was always too much work to be done to focus on trivial things like holidays -- but now, watching Grantaire hum happily as he unpacks the bags laden with decorations, he feels inexplicably warm. Maybe it’s just the effect Grantaire has on him, but all of a sudden decorating the apartment feels like something he  _ wants  _ to do.

He  _ wants _ to help Grantaire put a tree up, and cover it with gaudy decorations; he  _ wants _ to hang a garland over the marbled fireplace, he  _ wants _ to put lights in the windows and get stupid antlers for the dog. He  _ wants _ to hang mistletoe over every door frame and kiss Grantaire every time they meet beneath it.

It’s been a  _ hell _ of a year, and for the first time since he was a  _ child,  _ Enjolras _ wants _ to celebrate the holidays, instead of just working through them and grimacing in annoyance at every well-wish of the season.  


Grantaire must interpret his half-starstruck, half-stricken expression for something else, though, because he shifts his weight with feigned nonchalance and says, “But don’t sweat it if you don’t want to, obviously, we can just donate this stuff to the family centre downtown--”

“No,” Enjolras cuts him off, throat thick. He stands up, ignoring his protesting knees, and goes to pull Grantaire into a kiss. “No, I do, R, I want to. I really want to.”

_ “Great,”  _ Grantaire grins against his lips, and pulls back to drape one of the hideous tinsel garlands, a golden one, around Enjolras’ shoulders. “Perfect. Matches your hair,” he adds, before pulling him back in by it for another kiss.

 

(They  _ do _ get around to decorating the apartment, eventually.)

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> some mob au for the Holiday Season....i know its incredible i didnt turn it angsty :vv prompts found [here](https://littlerose13writes.tumblr.com/post/167528124950/12-days-of-shipmas-because-i-love-christmas) and as always u can find me on tumblr @ patroclols! thanks for reading bud, be kind and tip your fic writers with comments and kudos <333
> 
> [Support Me on Ko-fi](https://ko-fi.com/S6S5IQU1)


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